


Customer Relations

by laurenjauregui



Category: Adventure Time
Genre: F/F, first meeting AU, walmart au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-08
Updated: 2015-07-08
Packaged: 2018-04-08 09:24:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4299453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laurenjauregui/pseuds/laurenjauregui
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>8PM on a Saturday night, and Bonnie just wants to finish her shift at work and go home. Staying the extra hour pays off eventually, though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Customer Relations

8:00PM.

Bonnie cheerfully smiled at the numbers on her watch; she had an hour until she could go home and binge-watch Criminal Minds and CSI to her heart’s content. Excellent. All she had to do was last another sixty minutes.

She could do that.

(Nobody ever came in at this time, anyway.)

Bonnibel straightened out her uncomfortable and itchy Walmart employee vest and pushed her fiery orange locks from her face, before sliding out from behind her cash register. The store was deserted aside from her fellow employees – all as bored as her, willing time to speed up so they could all go home; Bonnie figured she may as well make use of herself and tidy up some of the shelves.

She chose the aisle closest to her – the one that stocked all the milk and cheese and other dairy products – and shivered a little as she walked past the refrigerators containing the milk, the icy breeze catching her on her bare arms.

She made her way to the cheese, and to her surprise, most of it was in the wrong place. _Typical_. Bonnie felt a little bitter when she saw that a block of cheddar was just inches away from its designated spot – instead of putting it back, one of the customers had put it in with the edam. Bonnie was used to this by now. Why put things back in their proper place when you can get tired, bored teenagers to do it for you?

Bonnie restacked the cheese, trying not to let it irritate her that customers couldn’t be bothered to put things back where they were supposed to be. God, she just wanted to get home. It’s not like she hated her job or anything – the pay was relatively good for a seventeen year old, and the other employees were nice – but she’d much rather spend her Saturday with her friends or doing a science experiment, not stacking shelves and scanning items.

Once she’d tidied up the cheese, she turned her wrist upwards and checked her watch.

_How the hell is it only 8:13?_

That couldn’t be right, could it? It had taken her _forever_ to stack the cheese. Her watch must’ve slowed down or something.

Bonnie let out a heavy puff of air and headed towards the candy aisle near the front of the store – everything was _always_ untidy and misplaced in the candy aisle. Probably because of little kids picking stuff up and trying to persuade their parents to buy them it. Then, when they failed, they just stuck it back on any random shelf.

As she headed towards the candy aisle, she stopped a fellow employee, Jake – who looked as bored as she felt – and quietly asked, “What time is it?”

Just to make sure her watch wasn’t incorrect. She _really_ wanted her watch to be incorrect – hopefully it’d be 8:45.

He rolled up his sleeve – for a moment, Bonnie considered buying one of those employee jackets for warmth around the freezers – and checked his black digital watch. “It’s 8:15.” At Bonnie’s obvious deflation, he laughed, “Yeah, I know. I want to get home too.”

Bonnie groaned and slowly backed towards the candy aisle, “The last hour _always_ goes too slow. Why does time hate me?”

Jake sent her an assuring smile, “We’ll make it.”

She smiled back and spun on her heels, staring directly at what she’d _hoped_ would be an empty, tidy candy aisle.

First of all, she could _already_ see multiple items out of their places – the Twizzlers were disorganised, the Reece’s products were _everywhere_ and don’t even get her _started_ on the Hershey’s bars – and second of all, there was a customer.

(A very attractive customer.)

She looked to be around Bonnie’s age – wild black hair, similar to a lion’s mane ran down the girl’s back, stopping just above her hips. A grey hoodie hung loosely from her slim frame, and her black skinny jeans were probably tighter than Bonnie’s too-small compulsory black pants; she wasn’t sure how the girl managed to move in them, but _damn, do her legs look good_.

Red faced, Bonnie snapped out of her trance when the girl turned slightly to the left and probably – no, _definitely_ – noticed Bonnie staring.

Bonnie turned straight to the Hershey’s bars and attempted to straighten out the mess. _Don’t look at her, don’t look at her. You see millions of attractive strangers every day and you know she’s staring._

Bonnie grabbed as many of the misplaced chocolate bars as she could, cradling them in her left arm as she moved the others with her right. She couldn’t resist the temptation to look up at the girl again, jumping in shock when she saw she was _much_ closer than she originally was, looking through the different types of Twizzlers, a packet of Skittles in her left hand.

And _of course_ when Bonnie jumped, the chocolate bars she was tiding fell out of her arms and onto the floor with a loud _smack_. Bonnie crouched down and began picking them up as quickly as she could, the other girl’s stare burning holes in the back of her skull. She recoiled when a pale hand came into her field of vision, picking up a few chocolate bars.

Slowly, Bonnie rose to her feet and came _almost_ level with her – attractive customer girl was about three inches taller. _Yep, she’s even more attractive up close_ , Bonnie thought, _sharp jawline, green eyes, gold nose ring_. _Don’t you dare screw up when you talk to her_ , _Bonnibel_.

Bonnie quickly tore her blue eyes away from the girl’s green ones, hastily returning the chocolate bars to their original spot before turning back to the girl. She extended a hand, holding out the last few chocolate bars.

Bonnie took them, the girl’s cold fingers brushing against her warm hand. She automatically flushed pink as she fumbled with the candy, “Thank you.”

“No worries.” And has a nice voice, too. Husky, like she was recovering from a scratchy throat, but smooth. “You look tired so I figured you could use some help.”

Bonnie’s gaze flicked to the girl again. She was half smirking – not quite a smile, but not as teasing as a casual smirk. Something under there was genuine. “Thanks. I appreciate it. It’s been a long day – I’ve been here since 12 and big crowds of customers like we get around dinnertime are pretty tiring. Sorry, I’m rambling, you don’t care.”

A soft laugh echoed through the empty aisle. “You can ramble at me if you want. I don’t have anything better to do but pick a flavour of Twizzler.”

The girl moved a few paces back and turned her gaze to the Twizzlers again. Bonnie snuck a little glance at her before working on the chocolate bars. “Really?” At the girl’s nod, Bonnie smiled, “Thanks. If you don’t mind me asking, can I get your name?”

_Was that weird? It was probably weird, and her silence isn’t helping. For god’s sake, Bonnibel, you –_ “Marceline.”

Bonnie blinked in surprise. She’d actually told Bonnibel her name. “Marceline. Cool. Thank you. I’m -,”

“Bonnibel.” Marceline finished.

Okay, now Bonnie was even more surprised. “How do you know that?”

Marceline burst out laughing, a wide, toothy, genuine smile breaking the prior smirk. “It’s on your giant nametag, nerd.”

Bonnie looked down at the large blue nametag pinned on her vest in surprise, as though she hadn’t realised it was there. _Oh, yeah. That_. “I forgot that was there. I don’t usually walk around with a nametag on.”

“I assumed.” Marceline had managed to turn her smile into that half-smirk again, although it just appeared as though she was trying to stifle a huge grin. “I take it you’re still in high school and just here for a weekend job?”

“Yeah, exactly.” Bonnie nodded, “Are you?” Quickly, she tacked on the end, “Still in high school, I mean.”

“Graduated last year. I’m eighteen.” Marceline told her, “I was going to go to college but my band took off and I just got back from a tour.”

“That’s really cool,” Bonnie enthused, “I’m actually applying for schools right now. I’m in my senior year.”

“Senior year is fun.” Marceline commented, picking up a packet of strawberry Twizzlers and tucking them under her arm. “You have access to the cash registers, right?”

Bonnie was taken aback by the random subject change, “Uh, yeah, I do. Why?”

Marceline held up her candy, “Can I pay for these?”

“Oh, sure. Yeah.” Bonnie pointed in the direction of the cash registers, but Marceline was already ahead of her. “So…what do you do in your band?”

“I sing and play bass.”

_She can sing? This girl is virtually the dictionary definition of irresistible,_ Bonnie thought, _she’s probably not even gay. Or single, knowing your luck_. “That’s so cool. I’m pretty tone deaf myself, so it’s really impressive that you can do that. Is it not hard trying to play bass and sing at the same time?”

“Not really.” Marceline shrugged, before looking up in thought, “Well, at first. But you get used to it. Now I do it without even thinking.”

Bonnie slipped behind one of the cash registers, taking the items from Marceline. Their hands brushed again; Bonnie got goosebumps. “Interesting. I guess you get more skilled at everything over time, though.”

Marceline nodded as Bonnie scanned her items, “What’re you thinking about doing at college?”

Again with the abrupt subject changes. Bonnie decided to roll with it. “I want to study medicine. My goal is to become either a doctor or a vet.”

“Whoa. Hardcore.” Marceline commented. She took the candy from Bonnie in exchange for her money, not opting for a bag. “I’ll see you around, I guess.”

_She’s leaving,_ Bonnie felt a little disappointed, before reliasing, _that’s usually what happens when customers pay for things. Great_. “Yeah, I guess. Thanks for helping me out before.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Marceline smiled, and with that, she was heading towards the automatic doors, probably walking out of Bonnibel’s life forever.

Bonnie stood, having an internal debate with herself, rocking herself on the balls of her feet. Was she going to risk embarrassment or not? Could she actually pluck up the courage to do something completely out of her comfort zone?

_Ah, screw it_.

She slipped out from behind the counter, running to catch up with Marceline. “Hey, Marceline! Wait!”

Marceline spun on her heels and sent a panting Bonnie a frown as she came to a stop next to her. “Uh…hi. Did I forget something?”

“No, I just…I’m never going to see you again, so I figured I might as well do this.” Bonnie tried to steady her breathing – her heart was beating twice as fast, but she knew it wasn’t because she’d just ran to catch up to Marceline. “Can I have your number? You know…to like…organise a date?”

“A date?” Oh no, the confused look wasn’t a good sign.

After a few moments of silence, Bonnie sent Marceline an apologetic smile. “Sorry. I get it. You’re not gay. Sorry.”

Bonnie turned, and with a heavy feeling in the pit of her stomach, headed back to the counter. At least, until she heard, “I’m bi. And sure, you can have my number.”

She spun around, sending Marceline an incredulous look. “Did I just hallucinate that?”

Marceline laughed again, that rare, real smile playing at her lips. “No, you didn't. You can have my number, dork.”

Bonnie blinked, stunned – did she just get a girl’s number? She attempted to stifle the amazed smile that was attempting to reveal itself.

Maybe having a job wasn’t _so_ bad after all.


End file.
